Hold Me When It Hurts
by Blood.Tears.Gold
Summary: This story is about depression, sadness and self-injury. It is also about love and finding it when you need it most. Rated M for description of self-injury.
1. Chapter 1

Hold me when it hurts.

Sometimes everything around you feels like it's closing in. Rooms are too small, voices too loud and people get too close. There are moments you wish everything would just go away and leave you alone.

Your thoughts are yours and yours alone, which is both a blessing and a curse at the same time. You choose to write them down somewhere so that you can let go of them and have them stop dominating your mind. However, every time you write one down another follows almost instantly. You know that it is impossible for the human mind not to think of something. The mind can not be empty for its always working. But that doesn't mean you don't wish it could. Every since you gave up a little piece of yourself, to one of your classmates' mother, there hasn't been a moment that your brain has stopped and allowed you to relax. Dark and depressing thoughts float around aimlessly in your skull until you can't take it anymore and write them down. Sometimes you press too hard and your pen pierces the paper with such a deafening sound that you close your hands over your ears and clamp your eyes shut just to shut it out. You do all of this in complete privacy of course. You can't have anyone know about your looming depression.

The only way to keep people away is to be a raging bitch. At first it helped a little, to direct all of your frustrations onto someone else. Make them feel miserable too just so you aren't alone. But you couldn't fool yourself for long. Because you are in fact, alone. You haven't been given a hug, or even a supportive pat on the back, in months and you wonder if anybody knows how low you have sunk since last year.

Most of your classes you spend focusing on anything but the four walls surrounding you. It has happened more than often that you wish you could just close your eyes and fold your hands over your ears and just pretend you are in some place completely different than in this stifling classroom. But you can't. You have to keep up a front and show people you are absolutely fine just so you can go home at the end of the day and be depressed there. Your mother doesn't notice. She really did try after she sent your dad away but the alcohol had too much of a grip on her and she just couldn't live without it. Her words, of course, not yours. You think that if she really loved you she would've done anything to make sure you were okay after you gave your baby away. But apparently I am supposed to deal with it myself.

That is how you find yourself today, Monday afternoon, in your bathroom looking into the bathroom mirror with a razor in a vice grip between your thumb and pointer finger. Eyes shifting constantly between the mirror and the razor. You sigh and think about what it is that you are contemplating. It's not suicide because you know you don't want to die. You know you want to do great things with your life even if it is just to prove your father wrong about you being a failure and disgrace to the Fabray family. Another sigh. All you want is just to think of something else. Be somewhere else than in your own head. You have heard the stories about people cutting themselves and that it does bring some relieve with it. So you take a deep breath and press the blade to the inside of your wrist. You briefly think about how convenient it is that you don't have to wear a Cheerio's uniform anymore because you don't think Coach would very much appreciate the scars on your wrist while performing cheerful cheers. That thought, however, is quickly replaced by sharp sting where the blade is attached to your skin and you can actually feel it cutting into you. You sigh again but longer than before and close your eyes and focus on the feeling of cutting and try to reasonably think about what you are doing. Do you like it? Do you feel better? Was it what you expected? Is this what you have been looking for? The answers are simple. Yes, yes, no and maybe. You really don't know why but as a small trickle of blood appears right next to the blade you feel as if everything is okay. And that as long as you feel pain you are at least not completely dead inside like you have been feeling for the past months. You gently remove the blade from your wrist and replace it a couple of millimeters away from the first cut and start a second. After you finished with the second one, you rinse your wrist with water from the tap and press some toilet paper against it to make it stop bleeding making a mental not to buy some gauze and bandages in case you choose to do this again. You walk into your room and pick out a long sleeved shirt before you sit down at your desk and open your schoolbooks. You try to focus on your homework but your thoughts go back to the small razor that is hidden in one of the cabinets in the bathroom. Maybe you found something that can make you feel like you can breathe again. You gently trace the fingers of your right hand over the inside of your left wrist and close your eyes at the slight burning you feel. With a small smile tugging at your lips, you uncap a pen and write down the one word floating in your mind. _Relief._

**A/N : So yeah this is the first chapter..This is my first fic so I apologize if its absolute crap! If you have time..please do review..I'm curious to hear what people think of this.. Thanks in advance!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

You feel like you are drowning. The halls of McKinley are too crowded and you can't seem to find a way through the throngs of people that are walking in every direction. They used to part ways for you. You were split the sea of students easily with just a simple glare and a variety of unkind remarks to anyone below you on the social ladder. Now, with your pink hair and punk clothes, people don't care anymore about who you were last year. They don't care that you ruled the school for three years alongside Santana and Brittany. Everyone seems to have forgotten the old Quinn Fabray and if you are completely honest with yourself, you wish you could too.

Your ears are ringing and you squeeze the strap of your backpack tighter, unconsciously rubbing the still fresh cuts on the inside of your wrist against the side of the strap. You feel a little lighter after you make it to your destination, English class. The teacher greets you brightly since you're the first one there and you give her a terse nod. Your ears are still ringing and there is pressure on your chest that you are more familiar with than you wished you were. The middle desk on the right side of the cluttered classroom has always been your favourite and you walk to it on autopilot. Your notebook is out of your backpack before you even get the chance to sit down and you desperately write calming words down. _Breathe, focus, just focus, breathe._ Not too soon after you started having minor panic attacks you realized that when you wrote down the calming words instead of just thinking them, the effect was much more direct and you would snap out of it easier. You continue writing these words until the bell rings and other students start entering the class.

The chair next to you screeches as someone takes a seat next to you. The sound is startling and your breath hitches involuntarily. Squeezing your eyes shut and putting your elbows on the table, you clamp your hands over your ears and repeat the words, that moments ago were just written thoughts, in a soft whisper over and over again like a mantra. A soft touch on your shoulder snaps you out of it with such startling speed that your heart thuds heavily in your chest and you drop your hands from your ears. You turn your head to the person next to you slowly, surprised that someone is willingly talking to you. Ever since you entered your so called 'faze', people started avoiding you. You can't blame them. If you could you would avoid yourself too. You blink your eyes a couple of times before your eyes focus on big brown orbs filled with an emotion you haven't seen for quite some time. There is pure worry inside those eyes and your breath catches at the sight.

"Are you alright, Quinn?" Rachel's eyes flicker across your face and you think about what you must look like from her perspective. Hunched over your desk, completely shut out of the world and talking to yourself. It takes a couple of seconds before you gain control over your limbs and face and you fairly easily slip into the role of uncaring punk chick that you have been trying to perfect ever since you dyed your hair.

''I'm fine, Rach." You give her a thin lipped smile and she doesn't even try to hide the surprise on her face. Her eyebrows are almost touching her hairline and her eyes are wide. You can't really blame her. You usually don't talk to anyone but the panic attack had you on edge and those eyes just got to you for some reason. Rachel blinks a couple of times and schools her features quite easily. You think it must be her years of acting classes that made it look so easy.

"Are you sure because you didn't look fine a minute ago. I mean not that you looked bad or anything that's not what I was implying at all! That would be incredibly rude on my part and as you know I praise myself on having perfect etiquette in conversing with my peers without being at all condescending."

You can tell that she is nervous. Something inside of you twitches uneasily as you realize why she feels nervous around you. You feel bad for treating her the way you did, you really do and you know that you should probably tell her that you are sorry. It would make you feel better and you know it would mean something to her. There is something about Rachel Berry that never fails to surprise you. No matter how mean you are, how many slushies you throw in her face. When you need her she will be there, no matter what.

At the beginning of the year, when everybody was still shocked by your new appearance, you found yourself in one of the school bathrooms receiving a hug from the one and only Rachel Berry. You remember reflexively thinking of a way to insult her and make her feel bad about hugging you but as soon as that thought crossed your mind you shrugged it off. You remember feeling lighter when she hugged you and you remember that you realized that it had been months since someone had hugged you, or touched you in any way for that matter. But most of all you remember it feeling _good._ The closeness of another person is something you have always craved but you have been depraved of exactly that for longer than you'd like to think about. In that moment it didn't matter that the person who was giving you that hug was someone you thought you always disliked. During that brief bathroom encounter, you savored the feeling of being hugged and it was over too fast for your liking. Stepping back from the embrace, Rachel had looked up at you and smiled a small smile. _'I don't know what brought on this change of attire, Quinn. However, I think you look good and as you know pink is my favorite color so.._"Her sentence had trailed off and her eyes had flickered to her shoes before looking up at you again. "_ I just hope you are okay and that you know that if there is anything wrong you can always come talk to me." _Her words had sucked the air from your lungs and had left you speechless. All you could do was nod as Rachel Berry, the girl you had tormented for as long as you can remember, was the only person who could see that you were hurting and that you weren't fine. You wanted to tell her then in that moment how sorry you were and how bad you felt about everything. But all you could do was feel empty as she left the bathroom after giving you a slight nod.

As you look at her now something is different. Apologies are piling up in the back of your throat and you struggle to get one out, onto your tongue and then somehow to her. The teachers' voice is shrill and way too loud compared to the quiet conversation you are having and it makes both Rachel and you jump slightly before you turn to face the front of the class and listen to the teacher drone on and on about next month's project. After a while the teachers' voice just kind of turns into a constant noise and you are able to zone out. You think about the girl next to you, who even though you have never reached out to her, always reaches out to you when you need it most. Your right hand finds your left wrist unconsciously and you take a couple of deep breaths at the delicious stinging sensation. Your mind slows down a little and you only hesitate a moment before you uncap your pen and open a blank page in your notebook.

_Rachel,_

Staring at the start of your apology you take another deep breath and nod your head, silently agreeing with yourself that if you can't get the words out of your mouth you might as well right them down on paper and giving them to her. From then on, your pen flows freely across the paper as you try to describe your exact feelings about the past between you too. Rachel always wanted to be your friend and you are the first one to admit that you need one right now. What was supposed to be just a short note turns into letter as you get carried away and try to write down absolutely _everything._ However, as you fold the paper in half and look at it one more time before sliding it over to Rachel, you feel _good_. There is still that part inside of you that feels you should be embarrassed with how openly you've described your feelings but Rachel is already opening the paper and you can see her face scrunch up in confusion. You see her eyes flicker across the page as if they don't know where to start but they finally settle at the top and you watch her intently to gauge her reaction. There is a part of you that is scared she will laugh or make fun of you but that fear leaves your mind the moment you see a small smile tugging at her lips. Not long after, she turns to you and she is full on beaming. She writes something hastily on the paper and you wait patiently until she folds the note the other way around and slides it back to you. You anxiously open up the paper and stare at her handwriting for a second. The only way to describe it is a happy scribble. Almost all letters have big loops and she even uses smiley faces as dots. It takes a couple of seconds before you can actually focus on what the note says but when you do, you can't help yourself from smiling at the words staring back at you.

_Dear Quinn,_

_Thank you. Your apology means more to me than you could ever know and I really appreciate you telling me how you feel. I just want you to know that I hope we can leave all of this behind us someday and move on to us becoming friends. If you want to of course..?_

_Rachel*_

You inwardly roll your eyes at the small star drawn hastily behind her name but then focus on the question at the end of her note. You think about being friends with Rachel. What it would be like to have a friend again. It has been so long since you had someone to talk to and you and Rachel always have had some sort of weird connection. You stare at the paper a minute longer but you've already made up your mind. You can practically feel her eyes drill a hole in the side of your head as you bring your pen down on the paper and write a short, but clear reply.

_Yes I would like that, Rachel. _

It feels as if a weight has been taken off your shoulders and chest. The looming loneliness isn't as suffocating anymore and as you stare down at the paper you realize your pen didn't pierce it once.

**A/N: Here is chapter 2 and I hope you enjoyed it! If you find any mistakes please do point them out to me. And I want everyone to know that even though it's kind of dark now it will get better eventually. Let me know what you think! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The remainder of the day is rather uneventful and you breeze through your classes pretty much unnoticed. The final bell rings and the pressure starts building inside your skull and your palms are sweaty as they clutch onto the straps of your backpack. A gust of wind hits you in the face the moment you walk outside and you take a deep breath to shake some of the tension out of your muscles. The walk to your car is disturbed by the sound of fast footsteps behind you and when throw a look over your shoulder, you see a smiling Rachel Berry. You try to smile back but you are still so tense and there is a coiling in your stomach that makes you feel sick. The smile on Rachel's face wavers and her brow furrows slightly.

"Quinn? Are you alright?" Her voice is raised slightly and she speeds up her pace to catch up with you. A sigh escapes your lips as you will yourself to relax because nobody can know. Nobody can know who you really are because it would just get worse and you just can't handle any more problems in your life. It also makes your realize that your façade is slipping because this is the second time today that she has asked you this question.

"I'm fine, Rachel." She smiles at you for using her name as if our whole interaction during English hadn't happened. Did she think that you were joking? That you weren't being honest with her when you wrote the things you felt? Because you did mean it. You do mean it so so much and you suddenly feel the urge to prove that to her. To prove to her that you want to be her friend, because you do. You need someone in your life that cares because you don't know how long you can keep going on like this. Your conflicting feelings are confusing and makes your head throb.

"You just look a little pale that's all." She tilts her head to the side when she tells you this and her brown locks fall over her shoulder. Your eyes widen at the sudden urge to just brush those locks back in place because Rachel looks at you the way only Rachel Berry can and it makes you feel warm. Instead you finger your own pink choppy hairdo and breathe in through your nose and out your mouth.

"I'm just tired. I haven't been sleeping well." You stop speaking abruptly because you already shared more than you wanted, but you also want to tell her more. You need to get out of there but the other option is home and that is not really a place you want to be either.

"It's nothing Rach, don't worry. I'm just going to go home and sleep some more so I'll be fine." She is still looking at you with that same look and all of a sudden she is touching you. Her hand is soft but urgent on your shoulder and you visibly tremble. Nobody touches you. Not even your own mother. You know that Rachel notices your reaction when her brow furrows even more and you can almost see the wheels turning in her head but you don't stand around long enough for her to ask you another question. You quickly brush off her hand and with a hesitant smile you turn around and take the last couple of steps to your car.

" Herbal tea." You stop moving, one leg already in the car and turn your head towards Rachel. "Herbal tea makes me relax and helps me sleep." Her worried eyes are boring into you and it takes a while before you realize what she has said. For the first time in the past couple of weeks you smile a genuine smile.

" Thanks, Rach."

**A/N: Hey guys..so there are a couple of things I have to say First of all: Im sorry for being away for so long and not uploading any new chapters. The reason for that is that I have been living all over the world and I simply did not have time between traveling to write. Also, I wasn't quite sure where to go with this yet so that didn't make it any easier. BUT! Now I kind of a clue of where I want the story to go I am willing to write more! The second thing I want to mention is that I know this chapter is incredibly short but I wanted to post something for you guys today! And if you guys review it will motivate me to write more sooner! And the most important thing of today is of course that ITS MY BIRTHDAY :D!**

**I want to thank everyone who is following this story and the people who added my story to their faves! It really means a lot cause I have never had the courage to post something on here so to see that people like it makes me feel al fuzzy inside So I hope you enjoyed this chapter and let me know if you want more! Loveeee,, BTG**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

When you reach your front door you realize that you forgot your keys. You try the door but its locked so you ring the doorbell. Hoping against better judgment that your mother is home and not too drunk to open the door for you. You knock a couple of times and look through the little window next to the door but there is no movement in the house as far as you can tell. The panic attack is looming and you can feel it. It is at moments like these when you know in your heart that you are in trouble and that you need help. Reasoning with yourself over and over that you are okay and that you just forgot your key and that it's no big deal but today has been confusing and someone actually asked if you were alright. Someone cared and right now you really just need to get into the house so you can lock yourself away and just revel in the fact that you still matter to at least one person. Even if it is Rachel Berry. The pressure on your chest increasing with every shallow breath and you try to prepare yourself. Swallowing hard you lean your forehead against the door and put your hands over your ears. _Relax, relax, relax just breathe. In through your nose and out your mouth. Come on relax, relax, relax. _Flexing your fingers and pulling hard at the fine hairs behind the shell of your ear, you manage to calm yourself down a little. As you straighten up a little the sound of glass bottles clanging together catches your attention and you turn around.

Judy Fabray used to be the face of perfection. Loving husband, two beautiful daughters and a healthy income insured that everyone in town looked up to her. But after her older daughter left town as soon as her High School graduation party was over and her youngest daughter got pregnant, everything went downhill. After separating from her cheating husband, money was tight and it was difficult to pay the bills each month. A little stress turned into unbearable stress and the alcohol helped her cope. Especially now that her once perfect little Christian daughter was now some sort of punk rock metal head. At least that what you think your mom thinks about you. She hasn't really commented on any changes you made in your life but her looks are more than enough. You look at your mom for the first time in a couple of days and you can see the dark rims under her eyes and the filthy looking clothes she is wearing. For a moment you feel guilty for not seeing how much your mother is hurting. Then, of course, you see the source of the noise and see two bags filled to the max with scotch and vodka and the feeling magically disappears.

Your mothers arrival has distracted you and you realize that your panic attack never pulled through. It's still there, thudding softly at the back of your skull and heavy in your chest, but not overpowering like earlier. Your mother glances at you and shuffles past slowly before using her free hand to dig into her pocket for the key. You follow wordlessly and you intend to just run up the stairs and lock yourself away but your mothers' voice stops you.

"How long are we going to pretend, Quinnie?" Her voice is rough and slurred as if she hasn't spoken for quite some time. It takes a while before the words sink in but when they do you wonder what this is about. You just want to be left alone.

"Pretend what, Mom?" You say it as relaxed as possible just to get through this conversation and away from your mother and her judging eyes.

"Look at yourself! What will the neighbors think when they see you walk around like a slut on Halloween. Quinn it's time for you to grow up and get out of this stupid faze. I thought that maybe after you gave away that bastard child of yours you would finally get your act together but it has only gone from bad to worse…"

You zone out after that because your mom will go on for a while about how horrible you are and how you have ruined her life. The scab on your wrist itches again and you scratch it willingly. The sting grounds you and your moms voice gets louder and louder and it's too much. You clamp your eyes shut and your hands find your ears as you try to block out everything. You stand like that, breathing heavily, until you smell the alcohol breath on your face and your eyes open a tiny bit to see your raging mother standing mere inches away from you. There is something different about her. Her eyes are detached and empty and something inside of you stirs and you realize it's fear. For the first time in your life you are afraid of your mother and your eyes snap open. Your mother sees your reaction and her eyes turn even colder. That's when you run. The stairs are right next to you and you run as fast as you can. You can hear your mothers ' heavy footsteps behind you and you know you are faster. But the terror is still there and you keep up the sprint just in case.

"DON'T YOU DARE RUN AWAY FROM ME QUINN FABRAY!" The screaming follows you into your room and you slam the door shut with so much force it shakes the mirror on your wall. The lock twists smoothly into place and you hear your mom smack into the door on the other side. For a second you are scared she will find her way inside and you run to your bathroom and lock yourself inside. You sit down with your back against the tub and rock back and forth. The tears are pricking your eyes and you clench your fists against your ears. Your teeth grind against each other but they can't drown out the white noise which is constant now. Your eyes find the cabinet your razors are in and from then on you move on autopilot.

The razor is between your fingertips and it slides easily over and through your skin. You cut deeper this time and the stinging pain is comforting and flows through you like a soothing warmth. This is how you want to feel. Always. Your eyes follow the razor as it finds an empty spot on your right wrist and slides inside. You release a deep breath and drag it slowly upwards towards the inside of your elbow. Your skin opens smoothly and the blood seeps out and onto the bathroom floor taking the noise with it.

When both your wrists and part of your arm are covered in red streaks you realize you forgot to buy the gauze and bandages you needed. You can't get yourself to care because the noise has stopped and it's just quiet now. Staring at your bleeding arms you feel a sense of peace coming over you and revel in it for a while longer. Eventually you realize the blood is drying and you move to the sink and wash it off. The blood doesn't seem to stop so you take two towels and wrap them around your arms. You use tape to make sure towels stick to your arms. Sliding into your pajamas you make your way over to your diary and flick through it. Every date leading up to today has just one word scribbled under it and you think what today's words should be.

_Fear._

You stare at it for a minute, wondering if it's the right word. You are afraid. The vacant one in your moms eyes. The caring look in Rachel's. Your mind wonders off to Rachel and you wonder what she is doing. Probably singing some Broadway classic or practicing for the new Glee assignment. You wonder what Rachel would say if she saw you now. Would she really care? Today she seemed concerned but maybe that was just her being over polite again. You frown a little at that and sigh. You turn to go to bed even though it's only eight in the evening you are exhausted. Halfway into bed you hesitate. Quickly shuffling back to your diary you scribble another word under the first and then rush back as fast as you can and dive under the covers. As you feel sleep taking over you breathe the one word you never expected to find in your diary.

_Hope._

**A/N: Hey Guyss.. So yeah chapter 4 here.. I hope you enjoyed it. It's not very long and it took me a long time to write..Studying Chinese is very time consuming but I'm doing my best! Thanks for all the faves and follows! I really really really appreciate it! So please tell me what you think of this and what direction you want it to go? So yeah thanks for reading **


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**QPOV**

When you wake up the first thing you notice is the stinging pain in your arms. It's overwhelming and your arms feel heavy. Sitting up you look at the towels which have slightly shifted during your sleep. There are some red patches here and there but overall it looks okay. The bathroom light is bright and it takes a while for your eyes to adjust. You sit on the edge of the tub and slowly peel off the tape. The towel comes loose easily at first but after a couple of inches you realize the towel is stuck to the cuts. In your haze yesterday you cut deeper than before and longer too. The red angry gashes look scary and for a moment you feel sick. _Relax Quinn, Relax._ Breathing deeply you gently shrug off your sleep shirt and shorts and turn on the bath. When the water has risen quite a bit and is at about the right temperature you gently ease into it. The towels are easier to remove now but it still stings and you breathe heavily throughout the whole thing. The bathwater is now a faint red and you let the towels float towards your feet while you inspect the damage. The cuts are erratic and without pattern, splattered across your forearms with a desperation you don't recognize to be yours. You trace the bloody lines in wonder and in the back of your head you think about what would happen if somebody walked in on you right now. They probably wouldn't dig the whole slasher horror movie look.

You watch the bloody water go down the drain, it's beautiful and horrible at the same time. You wrap your forearms in some toilet paper to stop the cuts from bleeding. Looking in the mirror you realize the pink in your hair is fading so you get out the dye and put on the plastic gloves. You eye your laptop from across the room and decide that music would maybe take your mind off of things. Starting up the new album of The xx you make your way over to the sink again and start preparing your hair and the dye. Music makes you always think of glee and you realize how much you have missed it. Your friends, who always made you laugh one way or another. Mr. Schue who is such a kind man but always wears those god awful sweater vests. The music you miss the most though. The way it flow through you and around you kinda makes you think of blood. It soothes you and kills you at the same time because the same as with bleeding. Music stops.

When the tips of your hair are bright pink again you wrap your arms in new toilet paper again and make your way to your car. The pharmacy is not very far and you make it there quickly. Walking past the racks of painkillers and sleeping pills you make your way over to the bandages and gauze section. When you turn to walk to the cash register you see familiar argyle attire further down the aisle. Rachel Berry is standing about 5 feet away from you, seemingly having trouble figuring out what she needs. She is biting her bottom lip and her brows are furrowed. Almost automatically your eyebrows shoot up and something happens inside of you that you almost instantly dismiss. Squeezing the bandages clutched in your hands you make your way over to her.

**RPOV **

Daddy should have been more specific when he asked me to go to the pharmacy to get him some brace for his ankle. He and dad had gone squashing yesterday and daddy had sprained his ankle when he tried to hit a ball which was clearly way too low. When he asked you this morning to run to the store for him, he and dad were still arguing about the rights and wrongs of daddy's attempts so the specific type of brace got lost in the heat. When you look over all the packages again you feel a prickle and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Your sixth sense is telling you something or someone is watching you. The same happens when a slushie is coming and you automatically slouch a little before looking to your right but there is no one there. When you look left though, you see Quinn Fabray looking at you. You immediately straighten because Quinn is supposed to be your friend and she told you she'd try. Schooling your facial expression you conjure up a famous Rachel Berry megawatt smile and make your way towards her.

'Hello Quinn, how are you?' She looks slightly startled and it takes her a few seconds to formulate an answer. When she does it sounds breathy and soft. Then again, Quinn's voice is always soft and so so beautiful.

'H-Hey, Rach. I'm just here to uhm buy some bandages and stuff.' You can tell she is nervous but you don't really know why. You look into her eyes and you can see it there. The nervousness that is, but there is also something else there too. Something like sadness or pain. Lately, you have noticed Quinn's eyes are almost always sad and it worries you. Quinn hasn't always been your best friends but she is still a friend. Whenever you look at her you feel this need deep inside of you just to help her. To give her a hug maybe or just some kind words but before she was too closed off and you weren't close enough to her to just march up to her and ask her why she has been looking so damn sad all the time. However, when she reached out to you during that boring English class you haven't been able to stop thinking about her. Quinn's fidgeting brings you back to reality and out of your thoughts and you quickly formulate a reply to her earlier statement.

'Oh well..I hope you're alright?' She looks down and her arms fold across her chest. She scratches her underarms and seems to be taking a deep breath before an almost whisper escapes her lips.

'I'm fine, Rachel uhm..if you don't mind I have to go.' All of a sudden she is moving and you only realize when she has almost passed you that she is leaving. Your arm reaches out automatically and you gently place it on her shoulder. She stiffens immediately and that concerns you. You can feel her trembling so you gently squeeze her shoulder before letting go.

'Quinn, before you go I was wondering..' You trail off there because she still isn't looking at you but your pause has the desired effect because she turns back around to face you. Where she would usually lift one of her eyebrows there is now just this vulnerable stare that touches you to the core.

'..would you maybe, I don't know, like to hang out at my house sometime? I mean I have a pool and I thought now that we are newly formed friends we could maybe use it to bond a little bit. Get to know each other and such..'

Ugh..word vomit. You hate when that happens. When you are nervous you just can't seem to stop yourself and all these words just roll out. Taking a deep breath you decide to start over. Quinn looks confused and on the verge of crying at the same time so you quickly clear your head.

'I just thought that maybe it would be nice to hang out with someone else besides my dad during the weekend.' You send her a soft smile to hopefully make the invite a little less threatening and sound more..fun?

Quinn still looks shell shocked and you wonder if she is actually going into shock. Her eyes look unfocused and she seems to be panting softly. Your hand moves on auto pilot and before you know it its back on her shoulder and you step a little closer to her. The proximity and touch seem to shake her out of whatever shock she was in because her eyes focus and she breathes in in one long gasp. Worry flares inside of you. This is not normal, your sixth sense is telling you that something is really wrong and you want to be there for her so bad but you honestly don't know how.

'Quinn..?'

**QPOV**

She asked me to her house. Maybe even this weekend. When she started talking to you, you could feel the panic attack coming, it was just thudding in the back of your head like a bunch of elephants stomping around. You tried to focus but it was just really hard because this was Rachel Berry. The only person who still seemed to care about your well-being and that excite and scares you all at the same time. When the panic attack started to take over you tried to leave but her touch made you stay. Something so gentle but also firm made you stop dead in your tracks. And then she invited you to her house and touched you again. Everything was just too much but you had to say something. Did you really want to put yourself in a situation where you would be alone with her and she would ask questions? Probably lots of questions. And a swimming pool? That would be impossible with your arms in their current condition anyway. Before you can decline the offer she speaks again.

'I thought maybe this Sunday? I mean I know its short notice and I understand if you already have other plans but I really think this will be good for us. For our newfound friendship.' She ends with that smile again but you know you can't say yes. You know you can't risk her finding out about your depression and your fears. So you are just going to say no and leave it at that because that's the only smart option right now.

'Please, Quinn?' She looks at you with so much hope and care that you can't stop yourself.

'Okay, Rach. S-Sunday sounds nice.'

**A/N: So here is chapter 5..I had a whole plan on how I would write things this time and that I would make it much much longer but everything is just a little difficult right now. Eventually I will try to write longer chapters at once because when I read a fanfiction its really annoying when chapters are like 2 sentences long:P So if you are reading this THANKS for reading chapter 5 and I really hope you let me know what you think of this so please please review! Thanks guys have a great week!**


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